Farm Duty at Fort William

I was so glad to get out of Oban today that I was nearly halfway to Fort William before I realized I was feeling anxious about the week ahead. I feel nervous about fitting in, giving good service, doing well by the horses and family expectations, etc.

This WWOOFing idea of providing physical service on a farm in exchange for room and board is at once appealing and scary. Appealing because I’m trying out another way of living in the world and interacting with people. Scary because I’ve made my way by my writing skills for so long that I really wonder what else I have of value to offer. Of course I know there’s lots I can do, but I’ve rarely put it to the test as a means of barter before. And I feel the familiar butterflies of meeting a new family I’m supposed to share space with for a week.

The morning has been cloudy but not rainy, and the Argyll Coastal Road to Fort William offered some lovely views of coasts, forests, and villages that I tried to take in without much success. I arrived at the Fort William bus/train depot in time to see the Hogwarts Express Railway puffing at the platform across the way. It’s a coal-burning train that heads into the Glenfinnan region, where parts of Harry Potter were filmed. Lots of people were hanging around it, having their pictures taken next to the emblems emblazoned on the train’s side and nose. I would be there too, probably. I snapped this photo through the chain link fence that stands between the train tracks and the bus station, but Perry’s built-in camera wasn’t quite up to the task of a good zoom.

My WWOOFing hosts, Chris and Siobhan Carver, picked me up at the bus depot. Siobhan asked me a lot of questions to find out what skills I could offer (had I ever WWOOF’d before, how well did I ride, what experience did I have with horses, oh, you do Tellington Touch—how does that work, etc.). It seemed a bit like a grilling, but I later welcomed her direct way of speaking.

Siobhan had an errand at the train station, so Chris took me into Fort William for a quick look at the town while he ran errands, too. As we drove, he told me that he and Siobhan were leaving on Wednesday for London for a few days, that their daughters would be leaving town too, and that I’d be taking care of the house, grounds, and guest-chalet business with somebody named Charlie who’s also staying at the farm in their absence.

I tried to soak in this information while dozens of thoughts zinged through my brain. All of them were variations of, “Hey, wait a minute, you can’t just leave me with that kind of responsibility—I just got here! And, golly, you’d entrust all that to someone you just met?” But then I recognized that that’s also part of the WWOOFing experience—Siobhan and Chris have had lots of WWOOFers before, and the program probably attracts honest, earnest people by default.

Still, I was eager to be of use the first day and to assure them that I was no slacker who had just dropped in for a week of free room and board. That was hard to accomplish when the first thing Siobhan did after showing me my huge private bedroom was to sit me down to the kitchen table and offer me food and conversation. I felt more like a welcome guest than a traveling work-hand. I began to suspect that perhaps that blend is the whole point of WWOOFing.

The morning was mostly spent meeting the other occupants at Torlundy Farm. First were two of the daughters, Daisy and Gemma, in their early twenties. They are two years apart but may as well be twins for the way they do practically everything together and feed off each other’s enthusiasm. They all but hugged me in greeting. Gemma is an up-and-coming fashion designer; Daisy is, I think, the chef of the pair and does a lot of painting. Both of them are artists, musicians, dancers, horsewomen, festival directors—you name it, they’ve probably done it.

Charlie turned out to be a family friend who’s been a fixture at the house for what seems like years. He works the grounds, rents an apartment down the lane, and adores Daisy and Gemma, with whom he plays theatre, music director, and fashion dress-up with great aplomb.


The critter contingent of the farm comprises two dogs, Pip and Tarka (shown here); a pig named Nicolette; a dozen or so horses (Cory, Merlin, Eric, Boswell, Great Glen, Celene...I was already having trouble keeping them straight); and lots of free-roaming chickens. I don’t see any cats yet.

I can’t help but like this family and feel welcome here. They’re all loving, down-to-earth people who happily share tales of when they were extras in Braveheart and Rob Roy (both filmed in the Fort William area), and when they pastured and worked with the horses for these movies. Chris and Siobhan are going to a garden party at The Buck House (Buckingham Palace) this week to celebrate 50 years of The Duke of Edinburgh Award (for youth) work. The family organizes and runs an annual “nothing commercial” music and arts festival, and Gemma is part of the Queen’s birthday celebration by having one of her fashion garments on display in London this week.

They relate all this news with a refreshing matter-of-factness that has no hint of arrogance or name dropping. It’s more an attitude of, “This is what we do every day and, oh, by the way, we have to muck out the stalls and feed the pig this afternoon.”

Things are quiet at the farm right now. They just finished shearing all the sheep, so the big work is done; the long-term WWOOFer who helped left a few days ago. The guest cottages on the property—they run Great Glen Chalets here—are at the beginning of their week-long rent schedule and don’t need any attention.

So my “service” today started with an hour’s trail ride with Siobhan and her friend Jennifer, to exercise the horses and check out part of the property. I was on Cory, a gray, and Jennifer rode Eric, a little Exmoor pony. I’ll be cleaning saddles and bridles all week, and I got through four saddles today to the sound of rain falling on the barn roof.

Nicolette’s daily routine, which I’ll be managing, involves putting slop and grain into whichever pen she’s not in, opening the gate to the one she is in, and getting the hell out of her way as she beelines for the food. This girl is strong enough to knock over a VW bug if it were between her and her breakfast.

Siobhan showed me where to look for chicken eggs among the bales of straw and hay. The chickens have favorite hidey-holes, but Pip and Tarka know of them, too, and Siobhan says the dogs sometimes get an egg breakfast before she does.

The rest of my duty list this week will involve taking care of the house and guest house reservations with Charlie while the family is gone, and helping with the change-out of guest houses on Saturday. I also hope to do some TTEAM and TTouch with the horses and other animals. I’m glad the Siobhan is interested in that opportunity, too.